


The Dark Within

by cadaveres



Category: Destiny (Video Games), Destiny 2 - Fandom, Destiny: Forsaken, Forsaken - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Headcanon, Hurt No Comfort, Multi, Other, Salt, and a bit of hope?, lots of salt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 13:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16934205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadaveres/pseuds/cadaveres
Summary: Uldren Sov lies dead by your hand, but the threat of darkness looms ahead. A divided Vanguard, sacrifices you are unwilling to share, and the grief of a death you blame yourself for: all of this is bound to bring forth the darkest thoughts that linger inside your mind.Learning to cope with grief and regret was never your strongest suit.Time travel/Multiverse AU.





	1. Blood and Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> I am still salty and will remain salty. Here's a headcanon take on recent reveals regarding Uldren Sov and Cayde's death.

A gunshot and a semblance of control. You don’t know how you could muster such a façade, but the moment Petra was gone and there was only you and the empty spot where his body had lied, your mind began to falter. 

The blood he had lost pooled where his lifeless body once rested, a dark red that threatened to inch closer to you. You had never before thought much about blood, let alone be bothered by it. Blood was something you dealt with on your everyday life, either in stains from your enemies that you later cleaned off from your armor, or dried blemishes hidden underneath your robes from when you had been injured. Blood was just blood, so you could not understand why this time the sight of it made you coward away, why your pulse had quickened and your head fogged.

“Guardian?” Your Ghost’s concern was obvious. You placed your handcanon on its holster, missing several times because of your shaking hands. You could still hear the distinct noise your bullet made as it pierced through his skin, an echo that you were sure to have nightmares of on the days to come. You could smell burnt flesh and you covered your mouth in reflex, trying to contain the acid climbing from the pits of your stomach to your mouth. . Your Ghost’s voice quickly became a distant murmur amongst the cacophony of chaos surrounding you.

“Guardian!” You stumbled backwards, finally reaching a set of stairs where you collapsed on the floor, hands and legs shaking. “It’s okay. You’re in shock,” he tried to reassure you, but you could not focus on anything past the dark red smearing the floor and how close it was. 

Your mind wandered to dark places you had tried to shove to the back of your head, thoughts you had hoped would vanish with the exacting of your revenge: Cayde’s body, the flickering of lights on his eyes and mouthpiece, the static on his voice, his last words, and then darkness. Uldren’s end had mirrored Cayde’s, all except for the blood, and as it inched closer to you, you could not keep the idea away of how much of Cayde’s was now forever on your hands.

Revenge had not served its purpose. Cayde’s memory and the blood on your hands were now taints in your mind that you would never be rid of.


	2. Nothing Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though decisions and goodbyes.

You do not know how long your Ghost had been calling for you in an attempt to reach you. Out of the blue, your surroundings seemed oddly familiar, comforting even. “Are-are you okay?” He was cautious, almost frightful. You recognized the warmth of the cockpit’s seat, lined with fabrics and furs from your travels, all holding soothing memories of things you could prevent, things you could find no regrets in. You looked at your Ghost, who kept his distance from you.

You mustered a smile, weak and feigned, but enough to let your companion know that you were there with him. You turned to the glow of light and debris swirling nearby, head cocked to the side as you found yourself without a clue of where to go from there. 

“There’s still much we can do there,” your Ghost chimed, almost hopeful to find you a distraction that could take you away from the place he knew you would eventually go to next. 

You shook your head, knowing full well that hating being the bearer of bad news did not excuse you from not doing your best, even after going against one of the Vanguard’s wishes. 

“I understand.” He quietly moved towards the controls, switching the engines and establishing the destination slower than usual, clearly dreading the thought of returning himself. 

You reached for him, fingertips gently gracing its shell to attract his attention. He looked at you, optic widened at the gesture, and you nodded in reassurance. 

“Back to the silence?” 

“Not yet.” You half-smiled in response. You had broken a bow for Cayde and it was only fitting to return to it only after you delivered the news of the demise of his killers. “I still have news to deliver.” You stopped as the dread threatened to take over you again.  
“And decisions to make.”

Your Ghost moved its frame up and down quickly, acknowledging your decision. “To the City, then.” 

-

It was somber, much like it had been when the news of his death had initially reached every Guardian, as still as the moment you landed, carrying his body from the Hangar to the Vanguard’s headquarters. You could feel the tension as you made your way to where Zavala stood overlooking the city, ever watchful since the city had emerged victorious after the Red War. You cleared your throat, but he did not turn to face you. 

“I take it the deed is done.” His gaze remained fixed on the city, voice clearly strained from the news of your arrival, but with the unwavering determination he had shown when you had first went against his wishes. 

“Yes.” Your Ghost hid behind you, optics nervously flickering as you moved closer to the Commander until you finally stood by his side. “Uldren Sov is dead.” You focused your eyes on the horizon, all to avoid the gaze that had finally settled on you. 

“And what was the cost?” 

You dug your nails against the palm of your hands, trying to quiet down the voices at the back of your head ready to reproach his inaction, his constant willingness to stay back and watch as the darkness surrounded you. “Mine to deal with.” You took a deep breath and ventured a glance at his direction, meeting his piercing blue eyes sternly looking at you. “I will write a report with only what you need to know.” 

You walked away with hands shaking, your Ghost whispering comfort to you as you made your way to Ikora, trying desperately to avoid a glance at the stairs that led to the hangar. 

-

Banshee was the first to greet you on his own behalf. In his static, rasp of a voice, he mouthed a thank you, making the Guardians who stood by his shop turn around almost immediately to see you. Your eyes met the floor and nodded in return. It was clear that revenge, at least for him, had brought the peace and resolution he much needed, so you hid your own regret.

Guardians walked pass you, some inching closer, gracing their hands against your shoulders; others, arms crossed, shook their head in disagreement. Whispers followed, your name pronounced in so many different voices that you could hardly distinguish them from the ones inside your head. “We’re almost there.” Your Ghost was careful not to startle you, floating just above your shoulder and with enough distance so that you could have some semblance of space. 

The tension grew as you approached Ikora’s spot by the light of the Traveler, always looking backwards and upwards, lost in thoughts and past memories that you knew she would now never share with another, now that Cayde was gone. Vendors and Guardians alike stopped in their tracks as they watched the stray warlock return to their Vanguard. 

“Thank the Light, you have returned.” She seemed surprised to see you there, standing very much alive before her. Her lips slightly parted, letting out a long sigh of relief that you had no doubt she had been holding ever since you had announced your decision to go against the Vanguard Commander’s wishes. 

“He’s-he’s dead.” The contrast between hers and Zavala’s response could not be more obvious, and you could now tell where the tensions in the tower had started. Unlike the obvious animosity you had shown to Zavala, this time you were careful not to show any sign of contempt in front of the Warlock Vanguard; you talked in hushed whispers, Ikora sensing your unease as the crowd stood still to try and pry away your story. 

“Thank you, dear friend.” A knot at the back of your throat tightened. “Although the Vanguard could not see face to face on this matter, we did agree that having you back home was best, whether you saw this to the end or not.” 

You walked towards the desk placed just by the railings, your hands behind your back, your eyes looking up to the newly awakened Traveler. She followed suit, head titled to the side, expectantly. “I-thank you.” You paused, your eyes shifting from one side to the other as you looked for the proper words to say what you had to. “Although I am afraid there is nothing for me here. Not yet, at least.” 

You felt her shift to your side, followed by a painful sigh. “You do what you must.” 

Your Ghost floated to her side, sensing the dread in her voice. “Ikora, I- _we_ are sorry.” 

She turned to him, leaving you with burning tears at the edges of your eyes. “Do not forget about your home.” She sounded calm, but you dared not look into her eyes, afraid of finding worry and more things to feel guilt over, “And the people here who will miss you dearly. I will be waiting for when you decide it is time to come back, my friend.” 

You felt liquid pooling in your hands, your hands in a fist and nails digging deep into your skin. You nodded, eyes still glued to nothing and nowhere just so you could avoid her gaze. Your Ghost moved closer by your side, sensing your need to escape. "Goodbye." You transmatted just in time, before tears began to pour.

There was blood running down your hands, not much of it, but enough for your Ghost to make a fuzz about it. You felt a small surge of light as he cleaned up the mess you had made, unwilling to let just a small part of you reflect the turmoil inside. "Set course for Nessus." His optic glowed with curiosity as he set up the coordinates, "And send them a signal. I must let them know." But at least he granted you silence; he knew you would need time with yourself for what was to come.


End file.
